


He'll be okay

by englandaru



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Blood, M/M, Panic Attacks, Passing Out, Tony Being Tony, Tony Has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, they're married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 08:30:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10510080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englandaru/pseuds/englandaru
Summary: "Sweetie?" Rhodey called as soon as he heard the thud that took his husband out of his sight.In which Rhodey panics and finds that guilt has a way of sneaking up on you.





	

"Sweetie?" Rhodey called as soon as he heard the thud that took his husband out of his sight. He panicked a little, sure, all but ran around the bed to get to the side where Tony was now laying with a bloody nose. Vivid imagery of shrapnel finally reaching it's awful destination danced through his head and his hand immediately came up to check at the neck, checking for a pulse and releasing a breath he didn't realize he was holding when he felt the heartbeat fluttering underneath his fingertips, forcing himself to replay in his mind that last few moments- moments only it had been, since Tony was standing, kicking off his house shoes, and then suddenly wasn't. He had paused in his ministrations, looking only slightly aware of something being off before his eyes fell shut and his body dropped like a weight to the ground. Hospital- he thought vaguely, even as he slid up Tony's shirt to check for- yes, there it was, internal damage clear as day- even so Tony would fight him, fight the paramedics, fight everyone and everything because he definitely didn't want to close his eyes here and wake up attached to something mechanical. He would, he would fight, and that scared Rhodey even more than the drop to the floor had. Tony needed to go to the hospital. Tony was bad with that still. He was still in a state of hand shaking panic when Tony's hand came up weakly to wipe at his nose, blood smearing clean across his cheek, and before he had a chance to process that this wasn't the shrapnel, but equally as bad, Tony had stood, James rising with him, and stumbled into the bathroom, falling hard again to his knees this time and promptly puking pure, dark red blood into the toilet bowl. Apparently military training did something, did lots of things of course, but it did something great today because at some point his hands had found his phone (Tony's phone, this was not his at all) and dialed 911. 

"Tones...oh my god. Yes. My husband, he's throwing up blood..." Rhodey cringed as his own shaky voice echoed back at him. The media had the phone records, but they were holding it for now, in respect for the family. The family, which was him. He wanted nothing more than to distance himself right now. To stop listening to the recording. Go back to boot camp and get yelled at for being less than efficient. Anything but sitting next to Tony, Rhodey's Tony, hooked up to machines and pale still- time was moving slow, why did it feel like it'd been days when it'd only been a few hours? 

He'd panicked. FRIDAY had informed him, ever watching both of their vitals when she had eyes for it, and had been helpful. He'd panicked, and ran on instinct, and maybe Tony had almost suffered for it, though really what could he have done- he'd panicked. It was foreign, something he watched happen to Tony, not something that happened to himself, and he couldn't wrap his mind around why. 

"Hey, talk to me..." He could remember now, standing up as his mind struggled to keep up with the scene in front of him, one hand lightly brushing Tony's waist in case he fell or needed to lean, the other holding the phone in a death grip to his ear. His eyes were glued to what was happening in front of him, everything else was a blur. He watched as Tony somehow found power to bring himself to the bathroom, which shouldn't have been all that surprising considering hed been standing only a moment ago, only a moment ago he was standing and fine, and now it was only a nose bleed, but something was definitely wrong, and he should be stopping him from wandering off on his own but everything had tunneled into one thing, and that was the idea that Tony was dying now, he was dying. He took a few steps, watched as Tony dropped and suddenly became unsure if he was actually awake or if this was a cruel nightmare. "Tony... Tones...oh my god..."

The operator was kind, she really was, she listened patiently for the most part, gathering all information she could get from the situation as it played out, and prompted him in the gentlest of ways the moment she heard 'husband', which Rhodey kind of regretted saying, there were still homophobes in every department, he couldn't jeopardize Tony in that way, not when Tony had mad sure not to jeopardize his career in the military for years. 

But this was a nightmare, wasn't it? It fit the bill, with Tony spontaneously bleeding from multiple orifices and hitting the ground still- still, too still, too still for Tony who never stopped moving, not even in his sleep, this was a nightmare, or a nightmare come to life because he could /feel/ Tony under him, he could feel his warmth, but as nightmares go he wouldn't be warm for long, no in his nightmares Tony was cold immediately, cold like the empty side of the bed would be when Tony was dead, cold like when he snuck off to tinker in the middle of the night, Tony don't /do/ that, it's bad for your health, it's bad for-

'Colonel?' FRIDAY had explained that when the medics took Tony, he had volunteered to stay behind and pack an overnight back for the both of them. At some point he'd volunteered to leave Tony, like he'd promised not to ever do when he put the ring on his finger and watched him light up like a kid on Christmas. How could he let someone take him away? 'You seem to be experiencing a panic attack. Just take deep breaths and-' He didn't need to hear it. She was most likely mimicking /him/, talking to Tony as he gripped a pillow like a professional wrestler. He packed their bags and got on his way. 

"He's got a bloody nose and... bleeding internally. There's bruising." TMZ wouldn't air that as their attention grabber. They'd air the first part, and why wouldn't they? He'd failed, he'd panicked, he'd nearly messed up big time. Tony would be so disappointed, he berated himself, even as said man reached for him and took his hand and listed one too many sugar laced names meant to lighten the mood, as if Tony had done something wrong, like it was his fault that this had happened. Tony still had blood on his face. 

Tony could tell that he was ashamed, probably felt bad for him, the ass. Still, he scooted closer, greedily let Tony pet his head and place a kiss in an awkward spot. How'd he let this happen? Tony wasn't dying, there wasn't shrapnel migrating towards his too-big heart. So why did it feel that way? Why did he feel so guilty? Debilitating guilty. This was Tony's nightmare. Not Tony's in that it belonged to him, but Tony's in that it was Tony's special nightmare that belonged to Jim. The one. That one. The one where Tony made it back, but not whole, and died in his arms, or in a car, or on the side of the road, or alone, or, God forbid, crying and in so much pain, choking and bleeding, bleeding, bleeding. He could almost feel it, the warm wetness of a nose bleed from out of the blue, staining his lap red before he could even look up to see Tony's pain stricken expression. This was Tony's nightmare, Tony's nightmare that had a special place in Jim's heart, which was all the more confusing because if Tony's heart was bleeding in his own heart, did that mean he was bleeding too? Was that what he was feeling right now? Some memories would never leave him, like the first time he laid eyes on his first car, or the way Tony cackled when he'd asked him to marry him. Now he could add that nosebleed, because he'd never forget the way Tony's hand had been painted red the moment it made contact with his face, or how weak he'd looked. How had he not noticed that sooner? God, his hands were shaking so bad, Tony's had been too, hadn't they? But they weren't now. They weren't now that Tony was taking his face with them, IV's held in place with tape that would leave a sticky spot, and tilting it up forcefully to wipe his tears with his thumbs so he could say something. "Clam down, what's happening right now? Why is this upsetting you so much? You're upsetting me. Cut it out."

A glance at his lap confirmed that he was indeed upset, and the wet warmth was not Tony's blood. Tony was fine. "I'm not upset." He told him stubbornly, ignoring the way his voice wobbled at the end, and ignoring even harder the way Tony's eyes rolled. Tony could suck it if he thought they were going to have any kind of conversation right now that involved more than 'I love you's and 'What are eating next'. Tony didn't need that, he needed time to adjust to being somewhere he didn't want to be. He was not about to play hero and make Rhodey the asshole, oh no. His thumbs felt nice though, stroking his jaw like he was some kind of good therapy dog, which was ridiculous because Tony preferred the therapy cats. They were nice and comforting and calloused and warm. His whole hands were calloused and brilliant and alive and he would accept that right now. And he would ignore the way the thumbs moved to wipe away the tears that fell again when he closed his eyes because those had no reason to be there. "You shut up, I'm not upset." 

"I didn't say anything."

"Exactly, so just hush."

"I don't-"

"Shhh-shhh. Shhh."

He could hear Tony frowning, and that was okay for now.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not a doctor, I don't know stuff. Also, I'm not in the military, they still call it boot camp if it's the Air Force, right? And 911 phone records. Probably don't work that way. But I woke up with this idea and I need it out of my head. Also abrupt ending is abrupt, but it's a drabble so. Yeah.


End file.
